


it will come back

by pyrotech



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-04-02 07:32:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4051627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pyrotech/pseuds/pyrotech
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four times Max slept next to Furiosa, and one time he showed up for breakfast. Cliche but necessary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it will come back

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd. Mostly just lots of fluff, a little bit of angst.
> 
> EDIT: so this fic got turned into a podfic by the wonderful [DetectableNinja](http://archiveofourown.org/users/DetectableNinja/pseuds/DetectableNinja) over [here!](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4561818)

The first time, it's out past the Green Place. Furiosa had made her offer and the Fool had gave his answer and now she was curled up inside the War Rig, saying goodbye before they left the big boy here to be stripped clean by scavengers, if they were even out this far, or by wind and sand. Probably both.

Her fingers were working over the fabric, mind exhausted but body refusing to shut down, when she heard the door open, and she looked over her shoulder. The Fool stared at her for a moment before hoisting himself into the seat next to her, closing the door and facing the other way. "Go back to sleep," he grumbled.

She almost snapped back at him, demanding that he sleep elsewhere, but the words wouldn't come out right. "Fuck you," she said instead, and went back to playing with the fabric. She thought she heard him chuckle, or maybe it was just the wind outside.

Eventually his breath evened out from his normal breathing, which sounded like he was trying to force all the air out of his lungs at once, to steady and light. She glanced back over at him. His face was screwed up, like he was in pain, but he was asleep. She snorted. "Fool, indeed," she said to no one, and pulled the blanket around her tighter, nodding off to the sound of breathing.

In the morning, she left him there, still propped against the window with his elbow. The Mothers didn't say anything about it, but she saw Iota give Fragile a look, and Fragile shook her head. "Let's get moving," Furiosa said, hitting the kickstand up with unnecessary force. "The Fool made his choice."

\---

The second time, they were joined at the wrists. Furiosa came back to consciousness while he was sleeping, sitting up, pale from giving his blood. His face was a lot more peaceful now, and she closed her eyes, trying to remember what had happened. He had pierced her lung, which still hurt, and then the world had faded, and then... "Max. My name is Max."

"Max," she said aloud, and he started awake. His hand went to the cord in his arm and she gently grabbed his fingers. "Sorry," she whispered. Even that slight movement made her feel woozy, but at least she didn't think she was dying anymore.

He nodded, following the tube up to her arm. Carefully, he took the needle out of his arm, and then hers. Blood dripped from both ends of the tube and he calmly wrapped it up and reattached it to his jacket, then wrapped up her arm. "Thanks," she said. "For being my blood bag." He snorted.

"Better than being Nux's." He looked away, his jaw twitching. "Better than you being dead."

"Mmm," she said, the world getting far away and fuzzy again. Max nudged her with his foot, frowning.

"Don't sleep."

" _You_ were sleeping."

" _I_ wasn't dying."

"That's fair."

"The Citadel is coming up," The Dag said, turning around from the front seat. "Look presentable, yeah?" Furiosa nodded, pushing herself up so she was sitting next to Max. Their knees knocked together, but he didn't seem to mind so she left them there, barely touching.

\---

The third time was seven months after he had vanished in the crowd, the barest nod to indicate that he needed to go. Furiosa understood, then, why he didn't come with them. He wanted to be alone. Wandering the Wastelands. And she didn't, which left her standing triumphantly while the masses cheered below and he quietly slipped away. And so she nodded back.

But then it was seven months later and she was sleeping on her cot, one of the few things she had retained from her place as an Imperator, when she heard the door open. She sat up, reaching for her gun under her pillow. "Who's there?" Silence, but the silhouette didn't move either, so she cocked the gun. "Answer or I shoot."

"Go back to sleep," the shadow muttered, and she lowered it minutely.

"Max?" He didn't answer, just scuffed at the floor with his boot before wandering over and sitting on the cot, his face half lit up from the moon outside the window. She scooted over and he took off his boots, curling up on the cot so he was facing away from her.

"In the neighborhood," he mumbled as a way of explanation. "Go back to sleep."

She laid back down, their backs touching on the tiny bed. "Coulda showed up in the day." She wasn’t angry, exactly. Annoyed, certainly. Disappointed, maybe.

"Wasn't in the neighborhood in the day."

"What, did you get lost?"

He gave a noncommittal noise, pushing his head further into the pillow, and she left it, feeling their backs shrink away and come back together, and was glad that it was chilly in the desert at night, and that he was warm. She was less glad when in the morning, she woke to an empty cot and cold skin.

\---

The fourth time was entirely an accident. Furiosa had taken a bike out to scout out rumors of a new camp, maybe make some peace with them, but eighteen hours in and a sandstorm raged up from nothing. The bike died quick, the sand choking it, and she had lost her compass somewhere in the winds, and so she stumbled into a cave that seemed safe and abandoned. She had barely rubbed the sand out of her eyes before she rolled into her blanket, exhausted.

A few hours later, the howling wind startled her awake, and she jerked up. Something stirred next to her, and she almost stabbed it out of reflex. Luckily, she heard the rumbles of snoring first, and she paused, before standing up and nudging the body with her foot. There was only a mumble, so she kicked harder.

“Lea’mme alone,” he mumbled, rolling over.

“You’re kidding me.” Max didn’t respond, curling his arm under his head and beginning to snore again. Of course. Of course they ended up in the same godforsaken cave in this hellscape and of course he was asleep and of course she was too much of a sap to kick him awake and scream at him. Fine. She could wait. This storm wasn’t letting up and she might be named after Fury but she could be patient.

It was a few hours of her cleaning sand out of her guns and bags before he yelped, on his feet in a second, tearing at his clothes like he was swarmed by spiders, and Furiosa jumped up, grabbing his shoulders. The plan backfired when his jerking limbs caught her in the stomach, and they both toppled to the floor, and he brought his head against her nose, hard. She heard a crack and could taste blood in her mouth, but she was sure he would injure himself if she let him go. She rolled on top of him, pinning his arms down with her legs and cushioning his head on her bag. After a few minutes, he stopped fighting, going limp, and she got off of him, rubbing the blood off of her face.

He was wheezing, hands twisted in his jacket, eyes half closed but pupils wide, her blood dotted on his cheek. “Sorry,” he choked out after a few moments. “Nightmare. Didn’t… Didn’t mean to.”

“’s ‘kay,” she said through a mouthful of blood. Some of the War Boys got that way too, woke up scared and already halfway out the door, didn’t even know they were awake until someone told them. Their fellow Boys were lost what to do most of the time, but groups of them had popped up in the Citadel, somehow always finding another Boy to sit by to chase the nightmares away. The ex-Wives recently started to join them, their nightmares different, but just as terrifying. Both groups had been cautious at first, but Capable had convinced them that they were fighting the same battle.

She spat out more blood, rubbing her lips before crouching down as Max stood up.“I should go,” he said as she rummaged for a scrap of cloth.

“Hey! Don’t you dare!” she said, finding an oily rag and wiping her face as she turned around. He was framed against the sandstorm still raging outside, turned pale yellow by the sun, and he sighed.

“Can’t get out anyways.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and trudged back over to her, sitting next to her and staring at the mouth of the cave. She scoffed, pinching the bridge of her nose and tilting her head back. It didn't feel broken, but that didn't stop it from stinging like hell.

“Does it really take a fucking sandstorm to get you to stick around?” she snapped when the bleeding had stopped, and he looked at her, raising an eyebrow.

“Apparently."

“Oh, that’s rich. Fuck you.” To her frustration, he laughed quietly, shaking his head. “What, you think this is funny?” He grunted, nodding. “You’re a piece of work, Max, you know that?” Another grunt, his lips tugged up at the corners.

She fought back the urge to punch the smirk off his face, and instead settled on angrily shoving the rag back into her bag. The amused look on Max's face dropped, and he looked away. "Sorry."

"Sorry? For seven months you were gone, then you came back, and then you were gone again. You understand why that hurts?"

"Yes."

"Why’d you do it?"

"Because of Splendid," he muttered.

"Angharad?” A little of the rage drained away. “Max, that wasn't your fault. She slipped. No one is mad at you. Even the girls…”

"Doesn't matter.”

They sat in silence for a long time, Max staring at the cave mouth like he could will the sandstorm away. Eventually, he coughed, a little awkwardly. “When I look across the desert, I see her. Started when I came back to the Citadel. I was planning to stay for a couple days.”

“I don’t expect you to stay when you can’t,” Furiosa said. “Just say something next time.”

He grunted, but he had at least heard her, so she let it go. The roar from outside had finally quieted, the sand settling, and she stood up. Max scrambled up beside her, eyebrows knitted together like he was in pain. But he followed her to the mouth of the cave, pointing out a tiny smudge a mile away that Furiosa assumed was his ride. She pointed out hers, the other way.

“Good luck, Max. I hope you find what you're looking for.”

There was an awkward moment where he stood, just staring at her, hands deep in his pocket, before he clapped her on her shoulder and nearly ran down the side of the cliff. She watched him, until he slid down a particularly steep section, and then turned and went her own way.

\---

Breakfast happened only on occasion, almost always to discuss business, this particular time was with the Dag, eating beans and something delicious and green while discussing rations. A baby cooed in the Dag’s lap, occasionally letting out a laugh as she poked it’s forehead. It had been four months since the cave, but Furiosa was always good at throwing herself into work.

“Imperator! Imperator!”

“I hate that title,” Furiosa mumbled, and the Dag gave a soft hum, her dirt-caked fingers playing around her lips as she studied the logistics scratched onto the table. A Pup stood in the doorway, chest moving up and down.

“There’s a man here, asking for you, won’t speak besides it. Crazy looking eyes.” A grunt came from just around the corner, and the Pup jumped into the room, ducking behind the table, and Furiosa laughed.

“You know it’s true,” she said as Max came around the corner, and he shook his head. “Go on, Lug. He’s a friend.” The Pup scrambled around Max, and he watched him go down the stairs, head cocked to the side.

“Innit that the Fool?” the Dag asked, still scratching numbers into the table.

“Stupid title,” he muttered, but his eyes were crinkled. “Uh, wanted to see the Wives-- the girls.”

“Furiosa has to finish breakfast with me,” the Dag said, and Max raised an eyebrow.

“They’ve been working on their assertiveness,” Furiosa explained, and his chest puffed out a little as he nodded.

“Then let’s finish breakfast. After I see the girls...”

“They’re the Mothers now. Not all literally.”

“The Mothers, then. And then…” His eyes flickered to an empty corner of the room. “I think I’ll go.”

“Breakfast first,” she said, and he nodded, sitting down. The Dag looked up for the first time, nodding at him.

“Welcome back, Max.”

 

 


End file.
